


Mardy Bum

by fullmontesquieu (orphan_account)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Killian vs. Hook, Neal is dead, Post-Neverland, Sharing a Bed, the jolly roger is a ship that ships this ship so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fullmontesquieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, he probably didn’t need to sneak out of the house before dawn. He could pretend to justify it by not wanting to wake anyone, but the truth was that Captain Hook just didn’t want to have to ask permission. And for some reason, Killian Jones felt like he had to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mardy Bum

**Author's Note:**

> Established relationship, Neal is dead, post-Neverland.

He doesn’t notice he isn’t alone on board because he’s distracted and maybe the Jolly Roger knows that, because she doesn’t let him know. Well, not until later. Captain Hook and the Savior are fighting – he’s staying at her place right now “just until he can find his own place” – and frankly it was all just ridiculous.

He’d been trying to deny it, but he felt forced into domestication. Watching _Peter Pan_ and other “necessary” pirate movies with Henry and Emma, learning how to use the microwave. It was worse that he didn’t entirely hate it. _Hook_ should have hated it.

No, he probably didn’t need to sneak out of the house before dawn. He could pretend to justify it by not wanting to wake anyone, but the truth was that Captain Hook just didn’t want to have to ask permission. And for some reason, Killian Jones felt like he had to.

This world and Emma had somehow caught him unawares and now he felt like he was rudderless, without even a paddle on a cloudy night. He strode across the ship, preparing to launch. He’d returned to his ship, changed out of Charming’s clothes and taken a large gulp of rum as his breakfast. What this world called rum was a far sight from what he missed, but for now it would work. The only other boats out would be fishermen and the only company he had would be the breeze, the waves, and his _ship_. He turned to face the ocean, taking a deep breath.

It was never the same sea under him – and sometimes not even from the same realm – but it was where he belonged. He found himself missing the hum of bawdy sailor songs, but preferred to work silently. It was a mark of his connection to the ship and its enchanted nature that he could man her by himself, anyway.

Finally, he cast off. He set course and, with a sigh, plopped down on the nearest crate, pulling out his rum and settling in for the long haul. He wanted to be back by lunch – Emma would be eating lunch with Henry at Granny’s and he still enjoyed the adventure of new, interesting food in this world.

Like Jell-O. Actually, he wasn’t sure he liked Jell-O, but it was, nevertheless, interesting.

By early morning the ship was several miles off the coast of Maine. He leaned over the side, looking at the water beneath the boat. The water was less blue than the Enchanted Forest or Neverland. He wanted to go no farther into the sea, for fear of not making it back on time, but liked the seclusion he’d found on this little cove. No fishermen were nearby, and the light gray clouds had turned to blue sky. It should have been perfect, but it was…not as good as he expected.

He took a long draw from his flask, shaking his head. His eyebrows were furrowed. Why didn’t it feel right?

“So are you leaving Storybrooke for good?” Henry asked, always blunt, coming from below deck. He startled, quickly straightening and balancing himself with his good hand. He tucked his rum back into his jacket, still facing the water.

Henry leaned next to him. The lad looked genuinely concerned, but Jones was a bit more worried that he hadn’t detected another onboard the ship. Surely the old girl’s loyalties hadn’t wavered in the week he’d been away? And where had the lad hidden?

“I was behind a crate,” Henry said matter-of-factly, with eerie understanding. “Are you leaving Storybrooke?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, no,” he quirked an eyebrow up, “Were you hoping to hitch a ride?” Henry shook his head, looking out at the water.

“Nope. I just wanted to make sure, you know, that you weren’t.”

“Right. Well, now that that’s established,” he nudged the kid with his shoulder, grinning. “How about an extra hand?”

Henry immediately perked up, turning to him. “Really?”

“Why not, lad? Charming’s teaching you to be a knight, right? Well, everyone knows pirates have more fun.”

 _Fun_. Well, he’d promised Emma they’d have it when they got back to Storybrooke, but this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

When Henry grinned up at him, he put two fingers to his mouth thoughtfully. “Best not tell him I said that though.” He and Charming had developed an amicable rapport tested only by Charming’s latent paternal instincts and his own habitually suggestive language. Well, and the, uh, _pirate_ thing.

And probably not what Henry did either. Killian hadn’t completely forgiven him for sneaking onto the Jolly Roger and knew that, at least in this respect, Charming had a bit of wisdom. You don’t learn how to be a pirate by steering the ship. He had started as the lowest of the low in the navy, himself.

He turned the ship home early. Then he put Henry to work fixing the rigging, checking and correcting Henry’s work as he went and acting as a third hand when tugging took too much strength for him. This didn’t come as naturally to Henry as riding or reading did, but he tackled it with the same stubborn determination that was both the blessing and curse of his family.

Not that he’d ever tell the lad, but Henry was doing loads better than Killian had when he’d started sailing. He’d not had his sea legs for a day when he toppled over the side of the ship and into the waves below. For the brother of the at-the-time first mate, it wasn’t exactly the greatest show of his seaworthiness. For the remainder of the week he couldn’t tell if his red skin was a lingering blush or sunburn on his previously underexposed skin.

As they approached Storybrooke, Killian pulled out his spyglass. On the dock stood Regina, arms crossed, and Emma, her hands splayed on her hips beneath her leather jacket. Gods she looked good in leather, but she looked even better angry.

Which she was. “Uh, lad? Don’t worry about finishing up, I’ll do it later. Why don’t you go clean up?” Henry stood up from his work, stretching. The lad hit a growth spurt after they’d come home from Neverland and now he wobbled a bit as he tried to rebalance himself on the swaying ship. He caught sight of the faint lines of two people on the docks and sighed, rubbing his nose and accidently streaking dirt across it.

“I’m sorry my moms are going to be angry at you.”

“Ah, well, sometimes it happens,” Killian said, giving him a closed-lip smile and collapsing his spyglass. “Especially with your mothers.” Henry descended to scrub some of the grime off and Killian prepared to dock.

By the time Henry emerged, he was lowering the gangplank. Emma and Regina waited at the end of it and he sighed, scratching the back of his head with his good hand. He ushered Henry over, but as soon as the gangplank was down all the way, Regina’s heeled boots strode with the full force of her anger onto the ship.

“You _kidnapped_ my son!” His eyebrow raises at her implication. It’s been a while since he was last accused of kidnapping, but he’s pretty sure these circumstances don’t qualify.

“Whoa, hold on a minute, love. _Your son_ was a stowaway.” He doesn’t add that Henry was treated a fair sight better above deck than others in his situation over the years. Instead, he turns his attention to the stowaway in question, giving him his trademark grin. “You’re welcome aboard the Jolly Roger anytime, Henry. Just – give us a little warning next time, okay?”

Henry presses his lips together and nods vigorously as Regina pulls him to her, his face pressed against her black wool coat. Henry looks appropriately contrite and embarrassed, but allows Regina to cart him off. Emma rubs his head, mussing his hair, as he’s pulled by.

Then she turns her attention on him, silently stalking up the gangplank. _Lovely._ She’s all anger and headache because for the last four hours she’s been dealing with Regina’s freak out over where Henry had gone. It was Regina’s weekend with him, after all. It had taken a full two hours for them to realize that the only two variables that aligned were that both Hook and Henry were gone. It had only taken a second for them to both become suddenly, searingly angry with the leather-clad pirate.

“You took my son out on open water _in a pirate ship_?” He didn’t look up from his work except for a brief glance from under his eyebrows that questioned her sanity. “Without telling me?”

“Look Emma, the lad came aboard himself. I didn’t know myself until I was already out to sea. I would kill to know how he did it though,” he said, standing up and moving to the next task of securing the Jolly Roger. He also wanted to do some routine maintenance. _Usually_ that was therapeutic. He grinned over at her, blinking at the sun behind her.

“And you couldn’t let us know?” she asked. Her arms were crossed now and she was tapping her boot against the deck.

“ _How_ , Swan? Did you want me to send smoke signals?” He was still treating her anger like it was all just a joke and she had enough. It was frustrating dealing with someone who didn’t realize the stomach-dropping, heart-wrenching worry they’d gone through trying to find Henry this morning.

Henry, just-got-back-from-Neverland-almost-killed-by-psychopathic-manboy, Henry. Henry, dealing-with-losing-his-dad-after-finally-finding-him, Henry. _Her_ Henry.

 “You’re not his _dad_ , okay?” She sucked in a breath through her teeth and Hook stood up, his blue eyes glacial. He took a step toward her, and another.

“Oh, of that I’m quite aware, love,” Hook snarled, invading her space. He used his hook to pull down the rope he needed from above them and turned his back to her, fiddling with some other ship part. She reached out, but pulled her hand back before touching his shoulder.

“Killian, I-“

He didn’t need her to say anything. He was and would never be anything like Baelfire. He just wanted to be _good_ enough for _her_. And, obviously, that wasn’t working out.

“Just go home, princess,” he said. His words didn’t convey any emotion, but his jaw was clenched and his knuckles white. Somehow, she realized, she’d managed to fuck everything up. Emma turned on her heel and walked to the gangplank, where she glanced back, her mouth set in a thin line.

“Thank you for taking care of him.” She stepped off the ship and left the docks, his eyes trailing her the whole way.

* * *

 

He got home late that night and missed lunch with Emma. There had been more work to do on the ship than he had estimated and some of it he’d had to do twice because he’d done it wrong the first time – his mind on other things. Charming and Snow were already asleep, so he carefully shrugged of his coat and slung it over a kitchen chair before climbing the stairs. The door to Emma’s room was slightly ajar and he pushed it open.

In the center of the bed, Emma was curled up in the crumpled comforter in one of his, previously Charming’s, old t-shirts.

She sat up slowly as he shucked his boots at the end of the bed. “I didn’t know if you’d come home,” she said it a small voice and he sighed. He came around to her side of the bed and put his hands on her shoulders, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the forehead. Not the Savior, not a princess, just his Swan. Well, Swan until next Saturday, at least.

“Always, darling.”

She gave him a sleepy smile and deftly helped him with the many buttons on his pirate garb, which he often traded for modern clothing anymore. He fell into bed, exhausted from his day, in just his boxers and pulled her to him, her breath crossing his chest and her hand resting on it. The open sea was home, yes, but he’d found another kind in Emma’s arms.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. The scent of her told him she’d been at his rum again. “You’ve got to stop stealing my rum. It’s immoral. People are going to think I’m rubbing off on you,” he teased in whispers.

She pressed her nose to the stubble just under his jawline and inhaled. “Says the man who’s getting married on Saturday but has a mistress in the docks,” she grumbled.

“Well, technically, she was with me first, so-“ he whispered, a chuckle rumbling his chest.

Emma smacked him lightly. “Are you saying I’m the other woman?”

“Like no other.”

She rolled her eyes in the darkness and let out a low groan at his antics. “Go to sleep. You’re ruining your image.”

He tilted his head down and kissed her forehead. “You better go to sleep, too. I plan on having you at dawn.”

“Ugh, you’re awful,” she said, grinning and settling her head against him.

“ _Pirate._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Totally inspired by "Mardy Bum" by the Arctic Monkeys. I really just wanted Hook and Emma to have a bit of a fight and then cuddle. Also this is my first OUAT fanfic and my first fanfic in two years. Do you see what this ship has done to me?


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